A Wish Of Good Night
by Jeccelo
Summary: a VERY short and sweet little Zutara passage. written by a younger me, at about 13 years old


A Wish of Good Night

by Jeccelo

**A\N: **PLEAZ READ! This is a teensy little Zutara doo hickey I wrote about a year or two ago... i was 13 i think... i've put some tweeks in it now, but it's pretty much a blast for my past. lol. Anyway, yeah, here's the story behind it: Zuko is on the good side. He and Iroh have pretended to capture Aang and the gang and are taking them to the Fire Nation to trick Azula and Ozai. Zuko is concerned and a little hesitant about the whole plan, worried some people might get hurt, but a certain special someone gives him comfort and confidence.

Zutara shall prevail!! Enjoy and please review!!

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Here he was. It had all happened. He had it all back.

From _one_ perspective, at least.

When Prince Zuko the Redeemed, son of Ursa and Ozai, sat himself at the head of the small table aboard the mother ship of his newly awarded fleet, every little movement reflected the weight crushing down on his shoulders. It was in the way he let his stubborn bangs fall into his eyes whereas usually he would brush them back impatiently. It was in the way he stared down at the table top with indecision instead of impatience.

His arm snuck behind him and his fingers reverently unwound the small string that held the compartment on his belt closed. From within it he drew forth a sleek blue ribbon, ripped in the center. His fingers traced a loving pattern over the ribbon, never once allowing it a glance, his eyes staring straight out at nothing.

His second hand lowered to the opposite side of his waist and opened the other compartment, and from that he pulled out a simple, silver carving. He caressed it also between his finger tips, feeling the flowing crevices that wound to create a symbol of water.

In silence he brought his hands slowly towards his chest until they found eachother. Blindly he bound the jewel and the ribbon together, mending the previous separation and remaking it's original beauty: the ordinary yet precious betrothal necklace that had been torn from a slender neck he knew.

The end of his left brow lifted as the door to his right opened. A round, familiar shadow entered and materialized into a man, who sat himself at the opposite end of the table. Leaning forward on his elbows and entwining his fingers, Iroh simply stared at his nephew. His presence seemed to have no further affect on the prince: he ever so slowly wrapped the necklace into a single hand and closed his fingers around it, the last glint of the jewel shimmering between his fingers from the reflection of the dim lamp. Hardness entered the young man's eyes as he returned from his daydreams to the warship command chamber.

"News?" he said softly. He looked at his uncle.

Iroh sighed.

"The same as five minutes ago when you last asked." There was no tease or annoyance in his voice, only gentle understanding.

Zuko's eyes wandered down to his closed fist. "I thought--- it was two."

"Oh, yes," Iroh said, a small smile playing at his lips. But seeing the solemn reaction from his nephew, he sighed again and leaned forward.

"Zuko," he said, "remember that a warrior's true power is based on his discipline and control of mind. When faced with a challenge, he leaves the physical world and remains in his mind, watching the situation from different views. In the end, his choice of action is based on who he wants to be less or most effected by what he is about to do."

Zuko's lips creased gently and then parted. He pictured the necklace, now encased in his grasp, when it had been severed. A jewel and a ribbon. Two very different objects as far as anyone could see.

Yet when they had come together just by a simple fixing, no more than the delicate conducts of his fingers, suddenly they could never have been separate. They were only one: they had always meant to be one. A whole.

The whole of love.

"It's love, isn't it?" Zuko whispered. Iroh's brow drew together.

"Love is the ultimate ruler for a true warrior," Zuko continued, almost to himself. "Love is what guides us all, guides the warrior's decisions."

Iroh's smile was almost relieved. "Yes, Zuko."

He leaned back, feasting a long, content stare on his nephew before slowly rising to his feet.

"Now knowing that, I suggest you turn in," Iroh said. "A deep sleep is well needed after coming to understand such powerful tactics."

Zuko did not need telling twice. He rose form his own seat.

"All right. Good night, Uncle."

Iroh bowed deeply. "Good night, Prince Zuko."

The darkness felt cool on his back as Zuko dragged his legs down the red-carpeted hallway. It was almost as if Iroh's words had triggered fatigue inside him; he chuckled when the slow rocking of the ship on the silky waves only lulled his drooping eyelids close together. But despite the eagerness he felt at collapsing into bed, somehow he detected that had not been what Iroh had meant.

Zuko's steps brought him beside a peticular door and he stopped.

It was disguised as a prison hold.

All the more to fool a certain Fire Nation princess.

Zuko's hand lifted and gently grasped the door handle, pushing it open only a crack to make sure the person sleeping inside would not wake. She did not, but only kept dreaming, laying on her stomach, her head turned towards the doorway, her arms up around her ears and holding onto her pillow.

It was amazing he could see her so clearly in the darkness, with her almost camouflaged skin and the heaviness of his eyes.

But somehow he managed. He probably didn't have a choice.

Zuko allowed himself a fond smile as he slipped around the door and entered the room completely. He made his way silently across the room, suddenly full of energy.

Katara shifted in her sleep, cooing slightly, and sighed. Zuko sat next to her chest, careful again not to wake her, and bent low to feel her breath on his face. He closed his eyes and listened as her dream began to play on her lips.

"...Don't tell him, will you, Toph?" she whispered as she dreamt. "I want to let him know when the time is right..."

Zuko brushed a stray hair from her face, keeping it betwixt his fingers and feeling's it's softness. Now that he was here he may not ever be able to get up and leave. Katara continued to murmur in her sleep, her voice like a little child's secrets.

"I love him, Toph," she whispered. "I love Zuko. I don't know... how it happened..."

Some inadequate smile crossed his lips, such an overused and weak representation of how he truly felt. Without hesitation he bent low to brush tender kisses on Katara's closed eyelids, her lashes tickling his chin.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear," he whispered to her as she sighed, falling deeper into sleep. "I didn't mean to."

He chuckled set a hand on her waist to hold her still while he stood. His eyes were not so willing to leave her as his legs were: he moved backwards with reluctance towards the door.

"Good night, Zuko," Katara murmured peacefully, her eyelashes quivering. She slept on.

"Good night," Zuko replied. "I love you, too. Thank you for helping me realize it."

And when he closed the door behind him, she smiled.


End file.
